


The Blacker the Night, The Harder It Is for You Goddamn Sinners to Get into Heaven

by honeybomb



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Exhibitionism, Hogwarts Era, Jealous!Harry, Little Shit!Draco, Public Blow Jobs, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10072601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybomb/pseuds/honeybomb
Summary: In which Harry is a jealous bitch and Malfoy is a conniving ho.Fun for the whole family.





	

The only way in which you could describe Harry’s fascination with Draco Malfoy was that it began suddenly and grew rapidly. Beginning as a suspicion, which grew into an ever-present gut feeling that told Harry that Draco was a death eater, followed by the assumption that he was wizard scum, and the living proof that Voldemort was back and that he wouldn’t stop until he had killed Harry and all of his friends, his feelings it grew into something different over time. Gone were the days when Harry longed to spot just a glimpse of Malfoy’s forearm, to prove to Ron and Hermione that he was right about everything, and instead morphed into something else that was, in Harry’s opinion, much more sinister. Now they were tender feeling towards Malfoy. He wanted to wrap him up in his arms, to stare deeply into his grey eyes. He wanted to talk with him as friends, to tell him everything and have Malfoy to do the same. He wanted to take his hand as he should have done all those years ago. 

None of it mattered when Malfoy believed, and always would believe, that Harry was a blundering idiot, an over-glorified hero, a git with a no brain that made up for it with unimpressive shows of impulsiveness and strength. Harry could see it every time Malfoy looked his way, his laughing mouth distorted into a sneer, the laughter in his eyes died, and the bright, red cheeks lost their color and changed into a cruel, angry face, but nevertheless, the feelings that Harry had persisted. 

That is why, at 1 o’clock in the morning, Harry is sitting in bed, with the curtains drawn tight around his four-poster bed, with the Marauder's Map in his hands. 

The venture began innocently enough. Just a quick check on the castle to ensure that all was well. The faint thumping of his heart against his rib cage was explained away as the constant anxiety he felt just existing as Harry Potter. The shaking of his hands and the heat in his face told another story. Unfolding the map carefully, he placed it neatly on the bed before drawing his wand, and with a hushed whisper, said the magic words:

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” 

The map burst to life as the tendrils of ink drew themselves across the parchment, crossing each other in lines that began to look distinctly like the interior of Hogwarts. 

Harry’s tired eyes drifted back and forth across the page, unseeing. He vaguely saw that McGonagall was pacing the halls, no doubt attempting to catch wayward students, that Ron and Hermione were sitting together near the fireplace in the Common Room, but suddenly, Harry’s eyes became focused on one particular spot. Somewhere in the dungeons, deep in the uninhabited sector of Hogwarts, situated in an alcove, were the feet of Draco Malfoy and another boy who Harry had never heard of, by the name of Antonin Perkins. The feet of Malfoy were positioned apart, with the toes facing away from each other, which allowed enough room for this other boy to situate himself right in between Malfoy’s legs, in a position which most obviously indicated that Malfoy was receiving a blow job in the middle of the night from a strange boy who Harry did not know. 

The anger and jealousy that Harry felt in that moment was white-hot and blinding. Heat coursed up his arms and into his face, blinding him in that moment and destroying all rational thought that existed in Harry’s brain. 

Suddenly, he was on his feet, rushing down the steps that led into the Common Room, Ron, Hermione and McGonagall be damned. He reached the bottom of the steps, doubled back to retrieve his invisibility cloak, and at the concerned shouts of Ron and Hermione, replied with an unconvincing “It’s nothing, just got to take care of something.” Then he was off, darting out of the portrait hole and into the dark hallway. 

Donning the cloak, Harry sprinted down the many halls and staircases it took to reach the dungeons, and had an abundance of time to think about his irrational anger. Consequently, by the time he had reached the entrance of the hallway that was the originator of all of this impulsive rage, he had cooled down enough to begin doubting himself. 

Why do I care? We’re not dating. 

Thoughts of doubt began tumbling through Harry’s head, all shouting at maximum volume to make themselves heard. 

This is stupid, Harry thought, I should go back. However, Harry was a Gryffindor, and he’d be damned if he turned back now with his tail in between his legs. 

Cautiously, he approached the alcove that Malfoy and that git Perkins were together in. They were out in the open, for anyone to see, and apparently, Malfoy was thoroughly enjoying himself. His head was thrown back, he was gripping at the tapestry that was hanging on the wall, and a litany of curses was pouring from his mouth. As he walked down the hallway towards the two exhibitionists, he failed to see the mounted candle holder that was conveniently invisible in the dark. The collision between Harry’s skull and the candle holder made a crash that echoed through the hallway, and Harry let out his own quiet curses that could rival Malfoy’s. 

Perkins pulled off with an obnoxious and obscene pop and asked Malfoy in a scared, quiet voice, “What was that?” to which Malfoy replied in his own irritated voice, “Probably one of those damn ghosts, now keep going.” 

Perkins wasn’t quite content with Malfoy’s explanation, but possibly fearing the repercussions if he didn’t do as Malfoy asked, began again with increased fervor. 

Harry stood transfixed, watching the amazing spectacle take place. Malfoy seemed even more beautiful in the dim candlelight, with his pink mouth open and soft sighs escaping his lips. However, Harry had never had the best of luck, and the whole thing was over seconds after his arrival. Regardless, Harry's pants still felt uncomfortably tight and he knew that there was no chance he'd get any sleep tonight. 

Malfoy pulled the boy to the feet and adjusted his robes, and sent the boy on his way. The boy had retreated down the hall, but Malfoy lingered. As soon as the other boy was out of earshot, Malfoy called out in the direction of Harry “Enjoy the show, Potter?” then spun on his heels and walked briskly down the hallway and into the pitch blackness.

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first ever work, so be kind. Or fucking destroy me. I don't care. I can't see any of your faces so the world is my oyster! You little shits can fucking grind me up and spit directly into my self esteem and it won't matter. Come at me you hos!
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading or whatever.
> 
> Leave me a comment expressing your deep concern as to why I felt the need to publish my writing. :)


End file.
